


Swear To Frickin God

by CooperS33



Category: Original Work
Genre: Angst, Declarations Of Love, F/F, Hurt/Comfort, Sexual Content, Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-14
Updated: 2015-10-14
Packaged: 2018-04-26 09:09:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,699
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4999015
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CooperS33/pseuds/CooperS33
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I need to know.  Do you love me?"</p><p>                        Rewind.</p><p>                                   Stop.</p><p>                                        Play. . .</p>
            </blockquote>





	Swear To Frickin God

Swear To Frickin God.

I don't know how to process this. I can hardly string coherent words together to form a sentence that would make any sense of it all. It doesn't make sense. None of it. Not one minute with her ever makes any sort of sense or rhyme or reason.

God I feel like such a fucking idiot. But not for the reasons you may be thinking. I'm supposed to be a writer. Supposed to be able to transcribe in detail emotions and thoughts in my head to readable  _feelable_  words on paper. I should be able to put someone  _right there_  in the moment so they can feel it - all of it, everything that happens from my brain to the page but. . .I can't seem to do it.

I've started and stopped and restarted these thoughts twenty times already. I've relived every single moment in my head  _::sigh::_  Nothing makes sense.  **Nothing.**

_"I need to know. . .do you love me?"_

God I knew that was coming. I could tell from the way we danced all night. From the way she'd grab me and kiss me hard then push me away just as hard to dance in her own space again. I could tell from the smile and the smirk she seems to be able to combine and hit me with all at once. That smile/smirk hybrid that tells me I'm toast. There's no hope left for my heart.

Rewind.

Stop.

Play.

Dancing in the club, the lights flashing the music pumping. Bodies rubbing up against each other. Grinding to the bass vibrating through the speakers. Touching her, teasing her, kissing her then pulling away. The smell of sweat and beer and lust are so thick it gets caught in your nostrils and gives you a little shiver despite the heat from the friction we're creating. We must have danced for over an hour non-stop. My legs are aching, I took my shirt off so I only have a white tank top on, sweat is pouring down my face and my hair is soaked. I wipe my neck and my face with the cold beer in my hand and it feels  _so good_. The beer that was probably my seventh or eighth - which would be five over the limit of my being able to keep any sort of control over myself or my emotions. I open my eyes and look up and she's Right There.

Suddenly we're in a stall in the bathroom. She grabs me and pushes me hard against the door, pressing her lips even harder against mine. Her hands are all over me, raking through my sweat soaked hair and cupping my face. We're so close we're breathing, gasping for air in rhythm – our hot breath soaked with the liquor shots and two dollar domestics we downed all night.

_"Take me home._ _**Your** _ _home. Now."_

I barely remember leaving. I barely remember grabbing her hand and forcing our way through the masses of women on the floor, on the sidelines, at the bar who watched all night with amazement, jealousy and contempt in their eyes. We put on quite a show – both on and off the dance floor. Pushing past the women we played pool with in the beginning of the night. The blonde that hit on her within five minutes of the first break. She played along, laughed, batted her eyelashes. Brushed against the blonde slightly every time it was her turn to shoot. This was a game within a game, and she played both like a pro. I was a bit jealous, I admit, but when it was my turn to shoot she came up behind me and kissed my neck. I sunk the eight ball and won the game. She grabbed me and pushed me against the wall and I grabbed her ass and we made out for what seemed like forever. When we came up for air I opened my eyes and the blonde and her friend were whispering in the corner. Probably whispering about how someone that looked like her could be with someone like me. I love getting the last laugh. I barely register them because I turn around and kiss her. Hard. Swear to frickin god.

 _"Now."_ she says with fire and desire and need in her eyes. I know an order when I hear one so I take her hand and pull her out of the club.

She wants to know if I'm okay to drive, wants to know if I'm okay with taking her home with me. How can I not be? How can I not be okay with waking up with her in the morning? It's like asking me if I don't mind breathing. Swear to frickin god. She wants me to hold her. She wants to crawl into bed and wake up with me holding her in the morning. She wants to feel like she's worth it. . .

_"'Cause the truth is, I don't feel worth much of anything a lot of the time. Why are you here? Why are you with me? I don't deserve someone like you."_

Damn it if she doesn't know. Maybe I gave her  _too much_  space. Maybe I let her live in her head for too long. Almost five weeks since I saw her for the first time. Five weeks went by and the sharp pointed edges and the overwhelming emotion all went soft and rounded and smooth.

_"Five weeks. Almost five weeks have gone by and here I am like I saw you yesterday. Don't you know why?"_

She shakes her head in resignation. And it breaks my heart. It almost kills me to know that she doesn't know what she's worth.

_"Make me believe it. Make me believe I'm worth it. You can say it a million times but can you make me believe you?"_

I stop in front of the firehouse next to the club. Some party is going on and they're playing, of all things, polka music. Again I kiss her and I hold her and I touch her face and I smile and she puts her head on my shoulder and my arm is around her waist and I really can't tell who's hold who up at this point. Maybe we both needed something to hold on to.

_"You have no idea how many women I've dated in the past month. One, two, three dates with all of them. But none of that matters right now here with you."_

I sigh and unlock the door for her and open it and she's kissing me again. Telling me she just wants me to hold her she wants my arms around her to make her feel safe.

_"Don't you know by now you're worth waiting for? If you leave tomorrow to go home and I don't see you for another five weeks, I'll still be here waiting and I can't understand why you don't understand why."_

Her head is in her hands and she's trying to make sense of it all. Trying to grasp the concept of why I want her, why I've waited for her to be ready for everything I have to offer.

She doesn't think she's worth it. She thinks I deserve better than she can give me and all she'll do is hurt me in the end. She tells me that she doesn't deserve to have someone like me in her life - that she could work her whole life to for someone as kind and generous and sweet as me and always fall short of deserving it. Barely above a whisper I hear it. I hear it and I know she wouldn't ask the question if she wasn't ready for the answer.

_"I need to know. . .do you love me?"_

And I close my eyes and take a deep breath because honestly? I haven't said it and meant it with everything I have in such a long, long time.

_"I promised myself I wouldn't let you know unless you asked. You want to know if I love you? Yes, I love you. . .I love you so much sometimes I feel like I can't breathe. And still I've dated so many women and I've gone out and we laugh and we talk and I go home alone at the end of the night. I go home and I feel sorry for them them because none of them are you. Not one of them can compare or compete with how I feel about you and I feel sorry for them because they_ _**never** _ _had a chance to begin with."_

She tells me to stop. Tells me that if I keep it up that I'm gonna make her cry and she looks up at me and she's already crying and I wipe her face and she kisses me softly. . .

_"Wanna know something? I love you too. I_ _**love** _ _you but. . .I don't deserve you. Don't fall in love with me, please. I'm no good for you. I'll only hurt you like I hurt everyone. Don't fall in love with me."_

Swear to frickin god. She made me cry and damn it I don't cry and I don't expose myself like that and I don't tell someone how deeply and completely I care about them because it's all always gone so horribly wrong in the end but I can't help it. I can't control myself or keep that wall up when she's that close.

_"I deserve the way you make_ _me feel and I'm not gonna walk away. I'm not gonna walk away and lose you because I know, this is what I want and I'll wait for as long as it takes. That's the only thing I've ever promised you and believe me I stopped making promises a long time ago. But I promise you I'll wait until you're ready to believe that you deserve me."_

There are things about her that I don't know. There are things she's done that I have no clue about and she's afraid that when they all come bubbling to the surface that I'll hate her and never speak to her again. She's afraid, even after everything I've admitted, that I'll  _still_  walk away. There's this one thing - this one 'demon' that's so big and consuming and horrible that she's afraid to tell me. It's this one thing that's keeping her from giving in. She couldn't take it if I hated her. She doesn't know what she'd do if, after she told me, I walk away.

_"You'll hate me. I know you'll hate me and be disgusted by me and never want to see or touch me again. I hate me for it, how could you not?"_

It's not my secret to tell. She'll tell me when she's ready. She'll say it out loud and I won't walk away...cuz you know what? I already fucking know and it Doesn't Matter. I still love her.

And that's the part where regret comes into play. Regret that she doesn't know me well enough to know that I couldn't walk away from her. I don't give a flying rats ass what she's done or that she's lied to me about it to protect me and keep me from hating her. I love her and nothing could get me to walk away.  **Nothing**. She doesn't' know that yet. She doesn't know that I don't do this. Swear to frickin god. I don't fall for someone this hard.

Ever.

_"I don't wait for anyone and you don't seem to understand that. You don't seem to get that I go after what I want and if I don't get it I move on. I wait for no one._ _**No one** _ _. And here I am waiting for you. I love you and I could never hate you."_

See, I think she believes me when I say I'll wait for her - I've proved that over and over again. Now she has to believe that I love her and no matter what this  _thing_  is, I'm not going anywhere.

It's 4 in the morning and the drive home was the Longest Drive Ever. I had to concentrate on the road and I couldn't get close enough to her, and she couldn't get close enough to me. She held my hand and I put my arm around her and she kissed me at every light and touched my face and my hands and my arms and legs. Complete and utter torture for twenty minutes and I almost pulled over twice just to be able to kiss her the right way without a goddamn green light to interrupt us. Swear to frickin god. And I know it's making her crazy because she asks me how much longer till we're there about ten times in five minutes.

_"I want to make love to you. I can't make promises about tomorrow but please just let me give you tonight."_

No more talking. I don't think we could make any more revelations to each other even if there was a gun to both of our heads. It's all so raw and real and intense and acute and overwhelming. She sat on the bed and those eyes. . .damn. Those eyes of hers get me every time. Swear to frickin god. I lean down and kiss her and the rest is just a blur of clothes and flesh and kissing and damn it

_"I feel like can't get close enough to you. I missed you so much."_

And I think she knew. I think in those moments she understood just a little bit of how I feel. . .how much I really do love her. With the lights on, without any background music or distractions or darkness. . .I have no words for it. Swear to frickin god.

She made me feel again. She made the connection between my head and my heart and my body with hers and made me feel like no one else ever has. She made me feel alive again and goddamn it I've missed so much. . .haven't I? I've wasted so much time on so many people who really weren't ever worth it from the starting line. I don't know why, I honestly don't. . .but I let this girl inside both my heart and my body. I let her in where no one else has been for a very long time because I swore to myself that I wouldn't give myself up again that way  **ever**  again and as terrifying as that was and still is. . .at the same time, it felt so right.

After having breakfast we laid down for a few minutes and I took her in my arms and stroked her hair and ran my fingers lightly across her stomach just the way she likes it and I can't remember the last time I felt so peaceful.

Three hours later we woke up and I actually did take her back to the apartment. We sat around a while, watched a movie and just chatted and enjoyed each others company. We didn't talk about anything that happened the night before. We sort of talked around it but. . .it was so raw and still very clear in our minds exactly what we both admitted that we were okay with the way things were now. There's time for that though. Time to work through all the revelations and the emotions. I think we both feel like we have all the time in the world now.

I left at sundown. There wasn't anything in particular on the radio. No lingering scent of her there in my jeep, no specific words popped suddenly into my head. . .but the strangest and scariest thing happened half way home. I started to cry and I couldn't stop. Everything she said, everything we did. . .every kiss and touch and  _that look_  she had on her face when she was on top of me and I was beneath her. . .Every Single Thing hit me all at once and all I could do is cry the rest of the way home. . . because suddenly it felt much too much like she was saying goodbye.

Swear to frickin god.


End file.
